


Rather Than Take Shelter

by summerstorm



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-12
Updated: 2010-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerstorm/pseuds/summerstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are so many ways this scene could go that don't involve Chris freezing to death, but none of them seem to have crossed Ryan's mind. So enduring the cold it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rather Than Take Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Chris/Mark, warming cold hands" at glee_fluff_meme.

Chris knows it's ungrateful and bitchy to complain, which is why he doesn't, but he really doesn't see why he can't put on a coat or wear thicker clothes while filming outdoors scenes. So the episode's set in May, whatever, it's not like the show doesn't already have three other million plot holes and continuity issues. Kurt wearing gloves near the summer could easily be some kind of fashion statement. Kurt not even waiting around for the bus could also be a moral stand. Kurt could be holding something, or holding someone's hand or whatever. There are so many ways this scene could go that don't involve Chris freezing to death, but none of them seem to have crossed Ryan's mind. So enduring the cold it is.

Well, the cast of Gossip Girl probably has it worse. Comparing situations is a good consolation prize when his hands are beginning to quiver and lose the ability to feel. _He_'s had it worse. At least his skin is red and not, like, purple or white or something that signals... something really bad, he doesn't even want to think about it. And anyway, hey, Elodie just called cut, thank the powers that be, and he can run to the food trailer and wrap his hands around a nice cup of hot chocolate that he may or may not end up drinking. Shouldn't, but it's entirely possible his brain will have fallen into a cryonic state by then and therefore won't be able to tell right from wrong.

He's barely had enough time to grab a blanket and wrap it around himself when he feels someone tackle him from behind. It's a firm, snug presence he recognizes immediately, partly by an elimination process—too tall for a girl, not gigantic enough to be Cory—and partly because he recognizes the voice that says, "Hey," and because the way he's being hugged is _weird_.

"Lea told me you looked like your hands were about to fall off," Mark says, grasping at Chris's elbows and squeezing his way down Chris's forearms until big, unnaturally warm hands reach and engulf his own. "Figured this was a better option than letting you break your diet and moan about it for the rest of the week."

"How selfless of you," Chris says, deadpan. It sounds a little awkward to his ears, a lot like this hug.

Mark nods in mock agreement, his chin lightly brushing Chris's shoulder a couple of times, and says, "Well, you know me. Altruistic like that."

Or, maybe the hug's not weird, per se, but Mark does hug him differently than anybody else in the cast who's comfortable enough with Chris to hug him. Most people go with the little-brother approach, which sometimes includes trying to pick them up, but there's always something off about Mark. There's usually an excuse, too, someone who told him something that gives him carte blanche to get even friendlier and more physically affectionate than usual, but there's something missing. Some sort of imaginary barrier, boundaries, less fraternal and more on the way to something else.

Mark thumbs at the pressure points on his wrists and nudges at the back of Chris's hands with his palms, a barely-there steady movement that brings back the tingly sensation from before to his skin, except this time it's a sign of the pain leaving rather than settling in.

And the boundaries are still there. He wouldn't be able to explain it, but he knows it when he feels it. Chris is not blind, he's been looking—let's be honest, everybody's looked twice at Mark at some point, he's that kind of guy—but he's not stupid enough or deep enough in anything to fool himself about this. There's something here, but if Mark doesn't have the guts to tell him without prompting, Chris is not going to risk turning such a happy set into an uncomfortable place.

"Thanks. I appreciate it," Chris says sincerely, turning around until they're facing each other in a way that makes the hug look less friendly, more bizarrely, unintentionally romantic, and Mark pulls away.

"Any time," he says before walking away.

Chris drags the blanket over his hands before their warmth vanishes again, and finds himself wondering if he's read Mark right—and if he has, if Mark's the type of guy who goes for it once he makes a decision, how long it's going to take him to figure things out.

Maybe Chris should start leaving hints around, make sure Mark's aware self-repression isn't the polite thing to do in this situation.

Just in case.


End file.
